Eager Now
by givesup
Summary: Set immediately after 6x13. Booth and Brennan are trying to figure out what's between them and how to act on it after Hannah.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****This is set after 6x13 The Daredevil in the Mold. Booth has already been rejected by Hannah.**

**I don't own anything, except for my own sick mind. **

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The scalding hot mocha flavored liquid burns its way down my throat. My nose writhes and I stifle back the urge to express my frustration through cursing from the result of taking a liberal amount of coffee into my mouth before it was cool enough to drink. I do somehow feel relieved though; if not for that pain, I could have believed that right now was just a dream. The tiny pricks of discomfort I feel winding their way down my throat and heating my chest sends me a quick reminder that I am _here_. Right now. With Booth. We are on the verge of something….something new. He sits across from me and I glance over at him. He has finished his pie so now I'm his only focus. And he is _focused. _He's been staring at me for several minutes and if it wasn't Booth I would feel extremely uncomfortable. He eyes me and then raises his hand to scratch the light stubble that has peppered his cheeks and jaw line over the days long hours.

He shifts around on his seat before he speaks. "We'll be ok, Bones." He predicts boldly. He leans in, elbows on the table. I continue to look at him while I think about his statement. I can tell my silence is causing him great anxiety as he moves around trying to get comfortable again on the small metal chair.

"I mean, we're ok now, right?" He asks, his voice wavering on confidence this time.

"Of course, Booth." I answer honestly. I can see and hear the relief escape him.

"Because back at the lab… I wasn't sure. You reacted…and I didn't know if I did something or…"

I take another sip of coffee and I realize that I'm drinking it not because I'm thirsty or because I crave it or because that's what you do when you're sitting at a table at the diner. It was because that's what I did when I felt something _anything_ that was pushing me towards the edge of my comfort zone. I sipped coffee (only, of course, if I had it). Maybe I was buying myself more time to think. Maybe I was delaying a response that I knew I had to give.

I shrug and shake my head at the same time and try to give an answer to Booth.

"Booth… I'm sorry about that, I just –"

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything Bones."

Tell him _anything_? I thought I had told him _everything_.

"I have." I retort quickly.

His expression tells me that he's confused. He's stays in the same position for awhile, elbows propped up on the table and his back hunched looking directly into my eyes keeping completely still and it seems like forever comes and goes before he _finally_ moves and slowly reclines back into his seat his eyes still heavy on me. He knows what I mean, he has to. I _have_ told him.

"You have… what?"

"I've told you." I reply, almost angry that he'd force me to have this conversation, again.

Angry that he's sitting there oblivious.

Angry that I'm feeling entirely too emotional right now.

I try to keep my voice on an even keel even though it fights with me to crack. "I've told you everything, Booth."

A few minutes of silence occurs before I speak again.

"In your truck. My tears, my confessions…everything….I told you…"

I keep fighting with myself and will my voice to come out strong and not weak. "Nothing has changed. Nothing has…. stopped." What takes us both by surprise was the volume at which I spoke this time surprisingly not alarming Booth but alarming myself. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and glance over Booth's shoulder at the elderly couple sitting behind us to ensure I have not caused a scene. When I speak again I'm almost whispering, leaning as far in on the table as I can to be as close to him as I can. My internal battle seems to come to an end and my resolve crumbles in defeat. At this point it doesn't even bother me like it should that it has. I let go and my bottom lip begins to quiver as I speak.

"I was laying in bed thinking about you Booth, _YOU,_ when Hannah called me," he flinches, even if ever so slightly, he flinches. I'm fairly certain that it is because of the use of her name. Hannah. Though, it could quite possibly be my admission of thinking about him in bed. "and told me that it was over between you two I was distraught because all I wanted was for you to be happy," I suddenly feel like I'm out of breath. I stop and gasp. I gasp for air and I reach for confidence and strength within myself to continue on , my next words coming out quick and rushed like flood waters breaking the dam "even if it wasn't with me. I wanted you and her to work out." It's only now that I notice my fingers are shaking. I swallow hard, trying to regain my composure.

His chest is heaving now with each breath and I can see that he's trying to remain calm despite his erratic breathing. His face is tense and barely readable but his eyes are polar opposite as they surge with emotion. He continues to look at me and I feel a slight pang of insecurity ring through my core. I find courage though, somewhere in the depths of me to keep going.

"But there was another part of me…" My focus turns towards the window and I look out. I try to gather myself and try to compose complete thoughts in my mind before I communicate anything else to him. The night is black and for a moment I think it's blacker than usual, which could very well be possible given several different factors and or scenarios. I zone in on my own reflection in the recently cleaned glass and I study my face in the window. I believe I am attractive. Even right now in this moment, despite how I feel and despite the dark circles making a home under my eyes and despite the few wrinkles set between my eyes on the bridge of my nose; I look much more put together than how I feel. Somehow that makes sense to me. Yes, that makes sense. I feel like my emotions have taken control of this conversation which is a very rare occasion. I feel insecure, just a little. I continue to bore into the glass and for the briefest moment my reflection change and I see a little girl. The face of a child. I squint and move towards the glass a little bit more as if being pulled by something unseen. Wait….It's my face, I see _myself _as a child. My mouth opens slightly in shock and I let out a quiet gasp. I pan across the glass and stop when I see Booth's reflection. He's still looking at me. It's then I realize that I am in the middle of a conversation, even more precise, in the middle of a sentence and so I blink away my trance like state and continue, "Another part of me was perhaps _glad_ that this happened." I wait for him to get angry or be upset but he doesn't and he isn't. His face doesn't change; he's still tense. His gaze unbroken and his eyes are as dark as the night is right now.

"Why?" He croaks.

_"_Why what?"

"Why were you glad that Hannah and I broke up?"

And now I know. I know that he knows. I've been with him during countless interrogations. I know Booth. I know when he knows something and he's just trying to coax the other person on saying it themselves. Doesn't he know that I don't need to be coaxed? My shoulders slump in frustration and I can only be honest with Booth. He asks and I answer. Even if those answers feel like they are being torn from my body, kicking and screaming in torment as the words leave my mouth.

"Because I'm in love with you, Booth."

His eyes clamp shut immediately as if he's been physically wounded by what I just said. I stay fixed on his face until movement on the table's surface catches my attention. My eyes fleet to the table and I watch as his hand turns into a fist and he squeezes tight. His hand turns a deep shade of pink before he finally opens it and flexes his fingers few times. I move my gaze to his chest and I'm anchored there. I watch as he inhales deeply and then lets out a long breath before finally opening his eyes again. I look into them and they glisten back at me.

"What I was trying to say back in my office was that maybe all of this happened because it was meant to bring us together."

He clears his throat and sniffs. "Bring us together?" his voice low and…something. There's something there. I'm not completely sure if he's looking for confirmation or just simply repeating what I said.

I continue "I've told you before, more than once, that I don't believe in fate but after all of this I am not certain of that anymore."

He looks away from me and now he's the one looking out the window now while I wait for him to respond. I let a few minutes of silence pass between us before I speak up. "Why aren't you saying anything?" When he does start to speak his head remains pointed towards the window, his eyes still on the night.

"The last time you opened up to me I couldn't respond. I was with Hannah. I couldn't respond-"

"And now?" I interrupt.

Another grueling moment of silence passes. I begin to wonder if maybe he's seeing himself in the window now. Seeing himself as a child, like I did.

He finally looks back at me. He grabs my hand from my coffee cup and holds it tightly in his hands, the contact sending a tingling shock down my spine and straight to my gut. He's looking into my eyes again. "While I was with Hannah I tried to move all of my feelings for you aside. Like the love I have for you was a piece of furniture that had wheels on it and I could just slide into the corner of my heart and forget about it," He pauses a moment. "I don't want to be with anyone else, Bones." He lowers his gaze to our hands that are in the center of the table. "I just don't know if I'm, you know, emotionally able to give you what you deserve right now."

_No, no this isn't happening. This isn't happening again._ I wiggle my hand out of his and pull it back to my side of the table. "I don't care, Booth."

"What?"

"I don't care! I'm ready now, ok? I am ready!"

"Bones…"

"No. I'm tired of not being with you, Booth." This statement comes out more as a desperate plea than an actual statement.

He leans back into his chair sliding his hand over his entire face before sitting back up to the table suddenly.

"Bones, look- I love you. I love you so much that I'm trying to protect what we have. I don't want this starting too soon and me fucking it up. I don't want to- no, I will _not_ lose you. Do you understand?"

I'm crying again. My hot tears stream down my cheeks in a warm and almost comforting embrace.

"I'm a mess Bones…" He shakes his head and looks away from me as if he's ashamed. I stare past him now but I can still see that my crying is torturing him. I feel bad, but I don't want to stop the tears. I don't want to go back to how I was. I don't want to not be with Booth.

"Bones, please… don't cry… please." His pleads quietly.

I use the pads of my fingers to wipe away the dampness from each side of my face. I sniff and grab a napkin from the dispenser and crumble it in my hand. "So how long, Booth? How long do I have to wait?"

"Bones, I don't- "

"How many other women do I have to see come into your life?" The tears were still coming and I didn't even care to wipe them as I held onto that brown paper napkin for dear life.

"It's never going to be like that again!" He didn't yell but his voice was raised and it carried throughout the entire diner. Everyone went quiet and a few customers look over at us, including the older couple sitting behind Booth.

The older couple finished eating and left, the bus boy cleared and cleaned the table and a waitress put a new bottle of ketchup on the table and I stopped crying before Booth and I spoke again. "It's late. Could you please drive me back to the lab?" I ask him pulling my coat and bag from the seat next to me.

"Whatever you want, Bones." I know he wants me to look at him but I refuse. After gathering my things I stand up and head towards the exit not even looking back to see if he was following me. After about two to three minutes standing outside by his truck the cold starts to get to me and chills begin to roll through my body. I snuggle my face down into my coat while I turn to look into the diner and through the window I see him still sitting there. His elbows are propped on the table and his head is in his palms. I feel a sliver of guilt flicker inside me. I was honest. I shouldn't feel guilty. No, I won't feel guilty. His hands come down from his face and I can tell he took a deep breath by the way his chest comes in and his shoulders arch up. He stands and I turn my attention away from the diner and him and back to myself and his truck. I hear him come out of the door and he walks passed me and unlocks the doors for us to get in.

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**Please review. I really love to know what my readers are thinking. Even if your review is just two or three words. A novel. A smiley face or you begging me to never write another word again for the rest of my life, I'll appreciate it. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright so I should have given you all an angst warning for the last chapter. I felt bad about not warning you so I gave you all a few light moments in this chapter. I don't want to spoil you! **

**I know where I'm going with this and there is always a happy ending. Even if it more like a Quentin Tarantino type of ending, well maybe not that bad... maybe more Tim Burton-y.**

**I'm just writing what I feel. I do have a plan for these two. If I get enough reviews maybe someone will get naked in the next chapter ;)**

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Booth brings the truck to a creeping halt inside the white lines of the parking space perfectly. After shifting the gear into park he looks at me. I keep my gaze forward staring adamantly out of the front windshield as if I had suddenly been bewitched by the unattractive shade of beige paint that was peeling against the concrete walls on the inside of the Jeffersonian parking garage. I'm not certain how much time passes exactly but I know that I don't even blink until the dimming, florescent, lighting on the ceiling of the garage flickers twice above us.

"Bones, will you look at me?"

And I do. I grant his request and my eyes meet his, ignoring my brains insistent requests to just get out and walk away and not deal with anymore of anything tonight. His face is soft though putting me at ease. The intensity from the diner is gone replaced with something gentler. He shifts in his seat so that his entire body is turned to me. He's always turning to me, always giving to me. Except for right now, he's not giving me _him _and I want him so damn bad. While I'm looking at him my attention veers from his face to the scene playing in my mind, a scene that took place just last week. I see him and myself at the bar together; his hand clinging loosely to his whiskey tumbler. I notice how small and fragile the tumbler looks in Booth's massive hand. The pads of his long, dark, thick fingers gently gliding against the glass, seemingly feeling it up, before bringing the smooth edge to his lips with one quick determined move of his arm. He bends his head back as he gulps, not sips, the alcohol down in one swallow and he doesn't even make a face or noise to indicate that he is effected by the burning sensation that he has to feel spreading throughout his chest. He brings the glass up to eye level and peers at the design at the bottom curiously before he slams it down hard against the top of the bar. I snap out of that memory and look at him, the _present_ him, again. He's fidgeting with a piece of thread that most likely came loose from his shirt or pants. Another memory quickly comes to mind and I see him sitting at his desk in his "new" chair, going on and on about how wonderful it is. He moves his hand down to mess with the lever underneath of it as I continue to watch him from the opposite side of his desk. He pulls on it and I see his body drop fast, while his feet are still propped up on his desk. '_The up and down thingy…is a little touchy' _hetells me. Once that memory fades away I try to stop myself from encouraging another one by opening my mouth to say something to him, but I find that I'm not sure what to say.

"What's funny?" He asks, smirking.

"What?" I respond trying to remember if I actually _did_ smile while reminiscing.

"You're smiling." He says, his smirk slowly turning into a grin.

"No, _you_ are the one smiling, Booth."

"I'm smiling because I noticed that you were _and_ still are… smiling."

His eyes seem lighter. I allow myself to laugh a little, a small chuckle really, before relaxing the muscles in my face again and speaking. "What do you need me to do?" I hope he understands what and why I'm asking what I'm asking because I don't feel like backtracking. Not tonight.

He swallows hard and looks down at the tiny piece of thread between his fingers before meeting my eyes again. "Just keep being you, Bones." He does understand. Of course he does.

I chuckle, more sarcastically now than a minute ago. "I suppose I should probably go now. It's been a very long day." I'm not running away from this, I tell myself, it is late and I am tired. I'm tired physically and I'm emotionally exhausted. I need rest.

"Ok." He says simply.

I grab the handle of the door and before I pull it I feel him lay his hand on my arm not aggressively but he presses his fingers into my elbow so that I _really_ feel him.

"Look…I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Yes Booth." I answer, smiling softly before getting out.

…..

In the center of my bed I shoot straight up with panic. Breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I frantically begin grabbing at my throat, my fingers scratching at the skin of my neck in a desperate attempt to somehow get air. My chest is rising and falling hard and it's when I actually _hear_ myself gasping that I realize that I _am_ actually breathing. After a few more deep breaths my heart rate begins to decelerate and I fall back into my pillows with a soft _plop_. I can feel a bead of sweat begin to trickle down the side of my face following the contoured path of my hair line finally dripping down into the crevices of my ear. I shrug my shoulder up and quickly wipe away the tickling sensation it's giving me. I had a nightmare. A _nightmare._ The fear that's gripped me keeps me from rationalizing it away. Instead I close my eyes and watch as images from the dream flash across the dark that lies behind my eyelids.

In my dream, I was watching myself, but, myself as a child, again. The _child_ me was staring back at the adult me through the window of the diner. Even though I was confused, that didn't stop me from being captivated by her… by me. A smile tugging at the corners of my mouth I start to draw closer to the girl in the window. I tip my head to the side curiously as I continue to slowly, almost float, forward moving my hand up from my side and towards the glass. My hand leads the way and my body follows behind cautiously. I don't want to frighten her. I stop approximately an inch and a half away from the glass considering whether or not I want to actually touch the girl in the window. I move my slightly bent fingers to where her face is and right before I lean in to touch her, her tiny little hand comes up and smacks the window hard causing me to jump back in shock and terror. She continues to slam her hand against the window over and over again. She no longer looks happy but tortured. Her face has turned sour and she looks as if she's screaming something but I can't hear anything. I open my eyes again and try to force those images out of my mind. I turn onto my side and bring one of my pillows that I don't use for sleeping, merely for decoration, and pin it against my chest and stomach, holding it tight. My thoughts drift to the only person I know that can put me at ease even if he isn't here with me physically. I think about how much I love him. I think about how he reacted when I told him that I loved him several hours ago. I think about all of our "guy hugs" and I think about all of the times he's been there for me when anyone else would have walked away. Someone _did_ walk away and I think about how he was there for me when it happened. I squeeze the pillow tighter and burry my face into the softness of it and let my thoughts of Booth, of us, lull me into a peaceful sleep.

I don't wake up again until the sound of banging from somewhere in my apartment lifts me from my slumber. I lift my head slowly and sleepily and try to shake the feeling of heaviness. When the noise seems to stop I let my head fall back into my pillows and a let out a low grunt. _Bang bang bang. _I lift my head back up quickly this time. Annoyed, I let one eye fall open and take a quick glance around my room and try to focus on where the noise is coming from. _Thud thud thud_. "What the hell is-" The metaphoric fog begins to clear from my brain and after I rub the sleep from my eyes I glance at the clock on my wall and see that it's 10:37 a.m.

_Shit._

"Damn it, not again." I shake my head. My ears perk suddenly when I hear a muffled sound. A voice. I hear someone. I hear…. Booth?

"Bones, let's go open up! Chop chop."

I drag myself out of my bed and grab my robe from the post before making my way to the front door. I make sure to tuck the front of my robe over my breast tightly after I put in on because I know how Booth is. I turn the deadbolt and swing the door open to see a freshly dressed, newly shave, clean smelling and apparently amused Booth on the other side.

"Uh, hey… there." He takes a few steps forward and his eyes immediately drop down to my bare feet and slowly make their way back up my body, taking me all in until he rests on my face again. "You look," he pauses and squints at me and scratches his chin "tired." He blurts.

"Tired?" I repeat saucily not because I'm offended that he said I look tired, I probably do, but because I'm kind of pissed off that _he _actually woke up on time and he's dressed and ready to go and I'm…..not.

"I mean. That's not bad. You're not bad… looking. I just- you can look tired and look… you know- good too." He clears his throat. "You've got to get dressed; they're bringing in Jones for interrogation."

I sigh heavily and my shoulders slump in a quiet defeat. I lean my head against the door. "I don't know why I keep doing this."

"Doing what?" He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms against his chest.

"Sleeping in. It's not like me."

"Are you sleeping ok?"

I see the concern on his face. Worry ready at the gate like a racing horse ready to charge as he anticipates my reply. I contemplate telling him that I had a nightmare and that actually I haven't been sleeping well at all for several months and that it's finally starting to take its toll on me. But, I decide against it because it's my issue to deal with and I don't want to add any further problems to the list of issues Booth and I are dealing with at the moment.

"Just a late night is all." I say simply. I can tell that he must be recalling the events of the night before at the diner because he shifts his weight to his other leg and his gaze drops to the floor and I can see a bit of torment spreading out against his rugged features.

"So," I say on a long sigh, "why don't you wait for me downstairs and I'll get ready and I should be out in a few minutes."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns on his heel and I close the door softly.

Twenty seven minutes later I'm outside and climbing into Booth's truck. I put my bag down between my feet and settle back into the seat. I grab the belt from above my shoulder and pull it across my chest and snap it into place easily.

"A few minutes, Bones?" He peers at me over his brown Oakley MPH Montefrio sunglasses, his right eyebrow slightly raised. I chuckle at the fact that I actually know the name of those sunglasses he holds so dear. He's only bragged about them hundreds of times since purchasing them. He doesn't splurge often but when he does he swears it's because it's '_all about quality, Bones'_ or because '_You can't go cheap with these kinds of things_' or in this specific instance with the sunglasses '_you __do__ know these are Oakley MPH Montefrio glasses, right Bones_?'

"Sorry Booth, my face wash regime takes at least ten minutes alone; if I rush that process it defeats the purpose of even using those products at all." I explain.

"Right." He turns back in his seat and starts the truck. Before he begins to pull away he shoves his Oakley MPH Montefrio sunglasses back up on his nose with his index finger. I smirk.

After one long agonizing hour with one of the suspects in the interrogation room Booth and I come out and the door slams shut behind us leaving the man inside alone. I look at him, waiting for him to say something. I can tell he's frustrated with how the case is going. We haven't had a solid lead. Questioning after questioning, search warrant after search warrant we have not gotten anywhere in this case and we were not even remotely close to catching a murderer. His hands are on his hips and he is pacing back and forth in front of the door, taking long strides in each direction and staring daggers into the air.

"If I push him anymore he's gonna lawyer up, I know it."

I hate seeing him like this. It's times like these when I wish I was able to be comforting and reassuring, like Booth is with me.

"What do you want to do?" He stops pacing but keep his hands on his hips. He strides up to me and his brown eyes look deep into my blue ones. I couldn't look away even if I wanted. His nostrils flare and when he speaks his voice is low, like how it was last night at the diner.

"Maybe it's me."

I lean back a little trying to get out of his magnetic like pull and create my own personal space again so that I'm able to concentrate on what he's actually saying.

"What do you mean? Why would it be you?" I ask him. My taking a step back was in vain, because he takes another step forward, his hands still on his hips. I move my head the right slightly to get a glimpse of what's going on behind him. I see other agents walking by briskly; phones are ringing, people were chatting oblivious to our world. When I bring my eyes back to him all of that stops and everything is silent. It's just me and him, us, in this moment. I'm used to this though. I'm used to him being able to do this. Being able to make the world stop.

" I mean," He looks over his shoulder quickly and turns back to me lowering his voice even further "I mean that maybe I'm not up to par, Bones."

"Up to par?" My mouth stays parted after I ask the question. I dip my tongue out quickly to moisten my lips. I'd be a liar if I said that I wasn't turned on by the fact that as soon as I did that Booth was fixated on my mouth. And I'm not sure if he does it consciously, but his tongue darts out a lick his own lips as well, while still fixated on mine. He finally snaps out of his stare and cocks his head to the left. "Why didn't you sleep well last night, Bones?" He removes his hands from his hips and slides them into the pockets of his slacks. I start recall the night before and images from my nightmare are brought to the forefront of my mind. I feel the telltale sign of a crushing migraine as my left temple begins to throb. I go to touch that area on the side of my face and then I feel Booth wrap his fingers around my shoulder softly.

"You ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just… have a headache."

"All right, you should take something." He nods to someone else standing nearby and I hear him whisper "We're done for now, send em' home."

After taking the Excedrin that Booth supplied me I sit down in one of the chairs in his offce. He's standing in front of me leaning against the corner of his desk arms and legs crossed.

"You sure you're ok?"

"Yes, it's just a headache. Fairly common."

"I don't care what's common, my concern in just you. You looked like you were about to pass out back there."

"I can assure you that I was not." I take another swig from my bottle of water.

"Hmm,ok." He walks around his desk and sits down in his chair and leans back in it.

"You're off Bones. This isn't right. Something isn't right. Your eyes aren't the same."

"I'm off? I don't –"

"And I know it's my fault. I know it's me and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Booth whatever happened happened. We cannot change that past and it's foolish to wallow in it."

He gets up from his chair and comes back around his desk to lean against the same spot he was just at a minute before. He runs his hand through his hair. "You're not the same Bones." He's shaking his head now and biting his lower lip. "You're not the same and it's because of me." The sound of two agents' conversation filters into Booth's office as they walk by his door bringing us both out of this very personal conversation.

"Thank you for the Excedrin." I say as I stand from my chair. "Could you please give me a ride back to the lab?"

"Of course I can."

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**So... what ya think? Tell me. Please. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to those of you who reviewed and followed and favorited! It really means a lot! And thank you to those who didn't, but read this anyway! And a HUGE thank you to ****dgschneider**** :)**

**This chapter is long... Well, longer than my usual. So, bare with it (or is it bear? No it's definitely bare... right? Hmm...and I call myself a writer.) Also, after this chapter, I'm thinking maybe two more will wrap things up? We'll see though. You'd think I'd be in control of that, but I'm not... *whispers* the voices tell me what to do! ;-)**

**Hart and co. ****_still_**** say that they owns Bones... so.. yeah...**

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**_My hand strokes the air languidly and it ripples back at me; a complete distortion of this so called reality. – me_**

The sun is setting over the lab, the day giving its last effort as a warm orange glow hangs over the city before nightfall takes its turn again. Everyone has left except for Cam who is currently making her way towards me, to say good night probably, her heels click-clacking against the solid floor. Her pace slows some, not much, as she approaches. Everything around me is mostly blurry and fails to capture my center of attraction except for the victim's bones under my direct gaze. When she walks past me her words fail to penetrate my realm and they are left unheard, mostly. The only real sign of her presence is the quick gust of cool air that envelops my body as she hurries by. I feel goose bumps rise on my skin and I look away from my work for only a second to see the tiny dark hair on my arms rise in protest to the cool breeze left in the aftermath. The earlier failed interrogation fuels me so that I'm intensifying my focus to find something for Booth that he can use. All I want to do is to be able to call him and tell him that I have something, and hear the excitement in his voice as he realizes we're about to catch the clearly disturbed person, or sick sonovabitch as Booth would say that did this. I desperately want to see the sincere display of sadness move through his expressive brown eyes but at the same time the confidence beaming from him when we finally approach the family and give them the closure they deserve.

After much time passes, standing in the same position begins to take its toll, a dull pain takes residence at the base of my neck. I pull my gloves off and throw them to the side. I slip my hand beneath my lab coat and my blouse to rub the afflicted area massaging the pain away. It subsides some but I still let out a groan of frustration while I turn my head to the left and right to stretch the muscles of my neck. I feel like I have made no real progress, in several different categories, if I am being honest. I feel control slipping away from me as my emotions begin to declare they want out. With a sharp intake of breath, I shake my head and my eyes are back on the bones. _I'm missing something. I'm missing something. What is it?_

_What is it…_

Both of my hands are gripping the edge of the steel table now and I begin to rock myself back and forth rhythmically as if my subconscious is trying to coddle away my rising anxiety that has now made its way to the back of my throat. I try to force it back down with a hard swallow. _What is it? _I ask myself again. I'm still looking at the Bones but since I'm becoming more frantic I'm focusing less on what's in front of me and more on what's going on inside of me. _What am I missing? What is it?_ The rocking continues. _What is it! _I yell to myself again.

And again.

And again.

A tear finally manages to escape me and makes a path down my cheek and slips into the line of my closed mouth. I taste the bitter saltiness of my own tears and it disgusts me. My vision starts to become blurred, from tears this time and not from intense concentration. I continue to bore into the bones, giving them looks as if _they_ killed my mother. As if _they_ forced me to turn down Booth when he asked to gives us a chance. As if they not only had the answers to this case but to _my_ life as well.

"What is it?" I mutter through gritted teeth. Something within me breaks and now I am full on sobbing. I stop rocking and stand still to allow this to come over me; I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to. Here in the lab, I cry.

"What is it?" I repeat and bring my hands up to cover my face. The question now not only in regards to what I'm missing with the Bones but also what is _this? _Why am I coming apart?

I must have been standing for awhile like that, crying. But I cannot say that I know for certain how long he was standing there. It's possible that perhaps he had just come in and approached me right away. Or, he could have come awhile ago and watched me from a distance. His arm comes across the back of my shoulders and he brings me into his side, taking and accepting me. I fall into him. We stand just like that until my crying stops and I'm left slightly gasping with staggered breaths. He walks me back to my office releasing his arm from me to let me walk behind my desk to retrieve my coat and bag. Once I have these items I'm back against his side and he's walking me out to his truck. He opens the door for me and I climb in. When he gets in he starts the truck right away and we drive off, neither of us complicating the situation by speaking. The sun has set and night is among us. The lights from business signs, stop lights and street lamps blur into one color as I look out the window and fall into a comfortable place against the leather upholstery. Eventually he turns the heat on a low setting. I try to determine whether it is the noise of the heater or the actual heat itself that is causing me to become increasingly tired.

My eyes open and he's leaning over me, wiping my hair away from my face with the back of his hand. I look at his face and try to make out his eyes but the darkness shadows him and I cannot see them. I sit up and glance around realizing that I had fallen asleep and that I am home now. He moves back some to allow me room to step out. He closes the door for me and grabs my hand. He doesn't intertwine our fingers, like a couple would, instead he holds onto my finger tips, gently pulling me as he leads the way up to my apartment. When we get to the door he turns and looks at me and then at my bag, I dig into my purse and give him my keys; he takes them and opens the door. He pulls me into my apartment and closes the door behind us once we cross the threshold. Once we are inside he locks the door and tosses the keys onto the small table where I usually keep them.

He pulls me into my living room and when we get to one of the love seats he turns around to face me. He places his hands on my shoulders applying the smallest amount of pressure, our legs are just slightly touching but our bodies are several inches apart. My knees buckle and I sit. He gets down on one knee and cradles the back of my foot gently and pulls off one of my flats. I notice his hair. He's had a hair cut recently so the hair is shorter on the back and sides of his head and a little longer on the top. It looks soft. Touchable. After he removes both of my shoes he puts them together and sits them neatly by the side of the chair. He stands slowly and I hear his back crack once before he's fully erect again. He grabs both of my hands and pulls me up against him. I expect to be pulled somewhere else right away but he lingers for a moment, looking at me. I can see his eyes now. His eyes are much the same as a child. A child who has just been told something that affects them greatly, emotionally. Adults… they try to hold back. I've come to find that they aren't typically ready and willing to bare their feelings and emotions; but a child… a child they aren't controlled by the outside world. They don't try and hold everything together out of fear of judgment. They react. Instantly. Everything is there to see. Every emotion they feel is displayed for all to see. That's him. That's him right now.

He pulls me across the living room and through my kitchen, he's not in a hurry, his pace is easy. As we're walking I notice the muscles in his back working against the fabric of his white dress shirt, his shoulder blades moving according to his strides. I bite the inside of my lip when I feel a throbbing below my navel. My eyes move up to the back of his neck, one of my favorite spots. I find the scars there exceedingly sexy, imperfections that make him beautiful to me. He flicks on the bathroom light and the vent at the same time, by accident I think. The sudden noise causes me to jump a little and he shuts it off so that only the light is on and makes eye contact with me briefly. He moves behind me and places his hands on my hips and guides me forward to stand in front of the sink. Once there I feel him move his hands away from my hips and then I feel him gently pulling at my hair tie. He gets a finger inside of the band and starts to untwist it so that in a few seconds my hair falls free from my pony tail around my shoulders. He places the band on the vanity and stands still behind me. When I look up from the sink I see him in the mirror. He returns the eye contact for awhile but he's the first to break it when he finally looks down and away.

"Booth."

His eyes snap back up to mine. He takes a step closer and puts his hands back on my hips, the pressure so incredibly light I have to keep myself from thrusting back into him to gain more contact. He's looking down, where his hands are meeting my body, I assume from the angle of his stare. I continue to watch him in the mirror. I watch as he moves his head in closer to the back of my neck and he takes a deep breath. His eyes close and I can see his temple and jaw tic. When his eyes flutter open again they are darker and more intent. His fingers are still light against me and he is standing completely still again, as if waiting for some sort of signal.

"Yes." I whisper, allowing every single bit of desperation to seep through in my tone. _Yes. Finally. Please. Now._

He moves from behind me then, taking my fingers and guiding me out of the bathroom. I turn the light out before we leave the room completely. He pulls me down the hall and into my room. When we're just inside the door, he lets go of my hand and walks over to my nightstand to turn on the small lamp there. When he turns back to face me he puts his hands on his hips and falters a little, like he is uncertain on where he should stand, or what he should do. His eyebrows' furrow a bit and he takes a step to the right and then he steps back to where he just was and stops. His hands still on his hips he just stands there and looks at me. The only movement for the next several minutes is him running a hand through his hair. If I should be saying something right now, I am not sure what that something is, so I just stare back and wait. The small lamp illuminates him, if even faintly and I can see the lines on his forehead move as his facial expression changes from uncertainty to…something else that I can't quite name. I believe he is going to say something but instead he lets his hands drop from his hips and he stalks towards me. As he gets closer I can see tears rimming his eyes but not falling. He grabs the left side of my neck, so that his fingers are pressed into the back of my neck and his thumb is pressed into my collar bone. He's an entire arm length away, but I can feel the heat coming off of him like a black top in the middle of the summer, and that triggers my body to react, adrenaline surging through both of us now. His mouth is closed but he's breathing hard through his nose and he is rigid and tense, like a wild bull before it charges its target. For a minute, I believe he is going to kiss me, but he doesn't. He's struggling right now and that pains me, not because of possibly being rejected but because of his turmoil and because of everything that has happened to lead up to him hesitating right _now. _ He growls and pushes me back from him. He turns and starts to quickly walk away.

_No…_

_No! _

But now, just as quick as he turned away from me, he turns back to me, closing the distance between us in two long strides crashing into me. His hands are pressed into the sides of my head and he kisses me hard. I open my mouth to him immediately. As much as he is giving to me right now, I try to give it all back to him. I hope that what I'm doing and how I'm doing it is accurately portraying the depth of my love and gratitude for him, if such is even possible. We pull away from each other to breathe. Both of us panting, I look into his eyes and see that the tears from earlier have fallen. A twinge of pain flashes somewhere in my center, I wipe away the moist trails from his face with my thumb and kiss his cheek where the tears had been. When we come together for another kiss, it's much softer than the last one. He is gentle, taking his time but still incessant. His hands move up and down my back, massaging me intimately, possessively. I break our kiss to pull my shirt up and over my head and toss it hastily to the side. My black bra the only thing covering my upper body now, so when his hands come back around me I _really_ feel him. I just need to feel him. The rough skin of his fingers feel so ironically soft against me as his fingers tips dance along my spine making a path to my lower back and then back up again. I arch my back pressing my stomach against the lower half of his abdomen. I bend, as far back as I can. His left arm is wrapped around my waist so that I'm secure. He places his right hand on my chest between my breasts, his fingers splayed out against me. He groans and bends forward so that his body molds to mine. His kisses my neck laying warm open mouth kisses from my collar bone up to my jaw, I whimper with need hoping he goes a little faster, sucks a little harder. He brings us back up slowly and his lips break contact with me and I feel cold where the salvia from his mouth is still fresh on my body. I fist his dress shirt in both of my hands and start to pull it from his pants. Once it's out I start on the buttons. I look up at him to see his eyes, to see if he's still with me on this, to make certain I'm still what he wants. He's already looking down at me; his eyelids are covering most of his eyes I can barely see them except for the tinniest slit of brown as he stares back down at me. I work- button after button- without taking my eyes off of his. Once his shirt is open he drops his shoulders to shrug the garment off and it falls to my bedroom floor. I slip my hands underneath his white, ribbed, tank style shirt and I feel my way up his stomach to his toned and strong shoulders. His skin is so warm and hard. Hard like he has been through a war. Hard like he has been abused. Hard like he has given love without getting it back. His head falls back and he shivers in my hands. He remains in that position for a moment before bringing his head back down and leveling his gaze at me again. He lifts his arms above his head and this allows me to pull his shirt off easily. My hands are on his belt, pulling and unclasping. He keeps his arms at his side letting me work.

Once everything is unbuckled and unzipped I start to pull them down, but he stops me by grabbing my wrists. I freeze, looking up at him. My heart starts to pound and my mouth goes dry. I believe he notices my panic because his eyes widen a bit and he strokes my cheek and leans in placing a kiss on my forehead. He keeps his mouth planted there while moving his arms around me and pulling me in to him as close as possible. He moves us over to my bed and I sit on the edge. He stands directly in front of me, so close to me that when he bends over to remove his shoes and socks, and then his pants and boxer briefs, his body bumps and nudges into mine. When he stands again, I try to not to gasp but I am unsure if I actually did or not.

I'm in awe of this man. This human being has left me without words. He stands before me, naked and bare and I can only stare, astonished. Years I've spent imagining, guessing, assuming, but nothing that I have ever fantasized prepared me for this. I take him in, starting at his feet, noting every detail and he lets me. After a minute he moves over me and, I, myself move further back on my bed as he crowds me, not allowing us to be separated by too much space. My head falls back onto my pillows and I feel so completely small and helpless under him but at the same time I feel so completely safe and protected under him, such a contradiction would usually confuse me and I would list all the reasons why that could not be, but I have no desire to do that. What I feel is real, so I allow myself to act on how I feel. And acting on how I feel, with him, feels as natural as anything ever could.

He pulls my pants and panties off and throws them off the bed. As soon as they're out of his hands he presses his body against mine and I feel him against the inside of my thigh, the warmth of him taking me by surprise "_uhhh…"_ I moan arching against him.

"_Mmmmm…_" He responds, kissing me passionately.

I feel…I feel like he tastes how he smells, he tastes like who he is. His taste is familiar and comforting; something else I'd protest, usually. He breaks our kiss to look at me. He moves his thumb across my bottom lip and surveys my face, I smile at his tenderness. After and two or three more strokes across my lip with his thumb he nudges my legs open further with his knees. He pushes himself inside of me, not completely though and yet I still cry out. My hands come around his back and I feel him all over. His head falls to my shoulder.

"Are you ready for what this is going to do to us….to me?" He asks into my neck.

I answer him by moving my hands to his ass and pulling him into me. He doesn't resist. He slides into me completely now and we both moan at the same time, our breath and our cries mixing together.

He stills once he's buried inside me completely. I try to steady my shaking legs as I wrap them around his back. He moves his hands to mine and intertwines our fingers, like a couple, and holds them above my head. I feel him tremble before he finally starts moving, he's slow and there's no set rhythm. His lips are hovering just above mine, his eyes are closed but I force mine to stay open to see every expression that crosses his face. He stills again after he thrusts hard into me, "Oh god Bo-" he gulps "Oh god…" he thrusts again, and again, each stroke coming harder. The tingling begins in my toes and works its way up my body. He lets go of my hands now and places his on each side of me as he continues to give and give and give. What were once infrequent sighs have escalated into animalistic grunts that are coming from deep within his chest. I finally reach my peak, quicker than I ever thought possible and I fall hard and unravel beneath him, grabbing him, pulling on him. "Come on," He whispers, "that's right, come on." His mouth crashes to mine and he kisses me, swallowing my moans and his name. As I'm tightening around him I feel him go rigid in my arms and I know he's there. I open my eyes and watch as his mouth falls open and he presses into me with everything he has, "ohhh!"

"Kiss me." I plead.

He drops his head and he tries to kiss me but his mouth stays open and his eyes stay closed as ecstasy washes over him. So, I take his bottom lip into my mouth, nibbling it and kissing him gently while his erratic and heavy breathing returns to normal. Eventually he collapses on top of me and lays his head on the center of my chest. He slides his arms beneath me and holds me tight, squeezes, would actually be more accurate.

I respond by wrapping my arms around him and embracing him just as fiercely.

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**A lot of the time I listen to music while I'm writing. I literally had 'Gravity' by Sara Bareilles (AWESOME song if you haven't heard it, get on it!) on repeat while I wrote this chapter... Not sure why, I just felt like sharing that with you.**

**Please, please, please pleasepleaseplease... let me know how you felt about this chapter. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok sooo I'm pretty sure in the authors note for chapter 3, I asked you all to bare with me...but now I'm pretty sure it's actually ****_bear_**** with me... right? So basically I asked you all to get naked with me. NO TAKERS! Imagine that. **

**Anyway, I legit struggled with this chapter. I had about half of it written and deleted ALL of it and went a completely different way. It's a tad angsty but I think you'll enjoy. I am such an angst whore, its really actually ridic. Sorry in advance.**

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"You loved me 'cause I'm fragile. When I thought that I was strong. But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone." - Sara Bareilles, Gravity

**X**

You would think that by now I would be used to this. That I wouldn't wake up in a complete panic, that I'd wake up composed because I've seen it all before and because of that it would make it less terrifying. But I am anything but calm; nearly everything about this is the same, including the fear. The same dream, the same place, the same girl. The same panic. But a few things are different; I don't grab my throat, I don't nearly choke myself by trying to get myself to breathe. This time my arms are at each of my sides. I have a fist full of blanket in each hand, pulling it hard but not as hard as I'm trying to pull myself together. And he's here.

I'm sweating and even though my breathing is labored, I am trying to slow it by taking long steady breaths in through my nose and then exhale out through my mouth. I do this several times gradually gaining control of the situation. Even after I've calmed, mostly, and have become more aware I keep my eyes closed while I sit up in bed because I know he's awake. I know he's sitting up and I know he's watching me. And even though I knew, what I know is confirmed when I feel his warm hand come to rest lightly on my shoulder from behind. I can hear him- his own breathing in sync with mine, only slightly louder than the sound of the hum of the refrigerator traveling from the kitchen, up the hallway and into my bedroom. I have to- _have to_ acknowledge him. I don't desire to do so right now. Not like this, but I know that I have to. I shift in bed so that my body is angled that I can look at him without turning my head too much. I've come to know Booth and I know by the crease in his forehead and the way his eyebrows' are set over his deep set eyes, how the sides of his mouth are turned down and how he isn't even blinking that he is worried. He stays silent. The dark skin of his bare chest and face seem light compared to the darkness outlining his body sitting up in my bed. Once he knows he has my attention, he moves his hand against my shoulder so lightly as though I could be scared away by anything more.

"Bones, are you ok?" His voice sodden with sleep but there is something about it that seems alert.

Acknowledging the chill in the air now, I pull the sheet up over myself. "I think," I pause and his eyes widen with expectancy, waiting for me to give him more, "I think that I will be ok." He moves his hand against me again. I feel like his fingers are burning right through my skin. I feel like he's trying to _actually_ reach my bones. As though he can hear my thoughts he moves his hand away from my shoulder and takes my hand into his and brings it to his lap. I feel him going to lie back down and I feel him taking me with him.

"I don't want to lie down right now; I don't want to sleep right now." I say, probably more stern than I mean to. He sits back up again suddenly, never letting go of my hand. I turn my head to the opposite of the bed, as far away from him as I can, not wanting to cry. Not looking at him seems to keep the tears from falling. I tip my head back and stare up at the ceiling, hoping that the tears will somehow fall back into the place they came from.

"Bones, please…"

"What Booth?" I question, still turned from him. I question him even though I know what he wants. He seems to always know what he wants and I never seem to really know what I want. What I need, yes. What I want… it's never been important enough…until more recently.

"I need you to _please_ talk to me."

I pull my hand away from his and use it to help support the sheet covering my chest. I had him. I had Booth in the way that felt right. But, he told me before this that he wasn't ready. Did I force him into this? Do we just go back to him not being ready and me supporting him emotionally in a friendly manner due to his breakup with Hannah?

"It's just…" I finally pull my eyes away from the ceiling and turn back to him, "I keep having this dream and it's always the same."

"What's always the same?" He asks softly.

"Her…me… I keep seeing myself as a child and the child she's… frantic." He seems to contemplate this for awhile. He's staring at the blanket that's covering us both as though he's trying to decipher the exact shade of deep purple it is.

"That could mean a lot. It could-"He stops and I'm almost certain it's because of the way my face contorts in sudden disgust.

"Please don't try and analyze my dreams, Booth. We both know how ridiculous that is… not only because of the obvious reasons but because you… you don't even know how you feel about anything these days." He pulls away from me a little in response to my words.

"Wait…what," He shakes his head, "what does _that_ mean?"

"It _means_ that I don't need _you_ to tell me about my dreams or myself." As soon as the words are spoken, I regret them. I can feel my stomach twist into a knot at the sound he makes. It's like a sigh but…. deeper. I can't stand too look directly at him now so even though my face is pointed towards his I let me eyes falls to an object behind him, a painting.

"I _know_ how I feel, Bones."

A stab of sharp pain hits me right in the center of my chest. "You're sure?" I ask him in a completely condescending way that indicates that I already know the answer and I'm proud of it.

"Jesus, Bones… look at me. I'm naked in your bed… ok? We _just _made love." His fingers are against my jaw in a second. "Look at me." I always do when he asks and I do now, knowing full well the consequences.

"I know that I love you. _You_ know….that I love you." He lets his hand fall away from my face and I find when it's gone that I wanted him to keep it there. "I am so sorry for everything that I've done that showed otherwise."

"But you…" I struggle to find the words that I want to say so I stutter, "you… you indicated that you were not ready. You said you didn't want to do this now." He shifts closer to me on the bed and my eyes move immediately to where our bodies are nearly touching.

"Neither of us will ever really be ready."

How does he know this? I hold the sheet a little tighter against my chest. "Well I was… I am."

"Are you?" He follows up quickly. He's doing that thing again where he's looking at me but not into my eyes directly, he's looking at my entire face. My eyes, my nose, my cheeks….my lips.

"You said that if we did this too early that you would-"

"People say things Bones… they don't always know what the hell they're talking about." His voice is so damn low all of a sudden, the quick change sparking something inside of me that he doesn't see, but what he does see are the goose bumps covering the skin that's exposed to him, my shoulders, my neck, the top of my chest.

"I feel like I took advantage of you, somehow." My eyes begin to well up with tears again at the thought of hurting him more. "I feel like I…." I look down now and I remember the vulnerability in his eyes when he looked at me in the mirror in my bathroom. How tentative his touch seemed to be at first.

"You think you forced me to do this?" He motions down at his own body a naked mountain under my sheets and blankets. His voice still low but now his gaze is… harder. "It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do. It doesn't matter what you said or didn't say, Bones… I can't- It would have happened."

He inches closer to me again, this time his thigh making contact with mine. He even leans in closer so that he's talking right against my face. "There was not forcing me, I was already there." He places his lips against my temple barely making contact at first and it's maddening, "I wanted to do this to you," He closes his lips over my skin, sucking just a little bit and my head falls back in a response that I have no control over. "I gave in to what I want and need," His hand slides over my body on top of the blanket, up my stomach and reaching the top of the sheet that I've been holding against my chest. His fingers dip inside, "and it's so right, Bones," he pulls gently and I move my hands away and allow him to pull the sheet down so that it falls around my waist exposing my breasts to the cool air of my room and to him. "this is it for us." He turns my head to face him completely and his lips fall to mine, kissing me hard. I respond because I want to and because I have no other choice. He yanks the sheets and blanket away from both of us completely and I gasp at the sudden gush of air that hits me. He moves over me and presses his fingers against my shoulder gently pushing me down into the mattress and soon as my back hits it he's kissing me again not just on my mouth but everywhere. One of his hands is kneading my breast in desperate fashion; he runs his thumb along the underside of it, squeezing and caressing, I moan load without discretion. I drag my nails against the skin of his back hard, he grimaces. He squeezes harder, kisses me more frantically. I press my palms against his chest and push him up and when he raises I sit up too and turn us so that he's on his back. I don't need any more time, and apparently he doesn't either. I straddle his thighs and lower myself onto him and cry out again from the feeling of having him inside me, filling me up completely. His hands immediately go to my hips but he doesn't force me to move, and we stay still like that without moving for awhile. Even though we are not exerting ourselves yet, we are still breathing heavy, our pants filling my moderate sized bedroom easily.

"Oh god baby, I want you so damn much." He whispers …and moans.

I move with purpose now not really lifting and falling but grinding hard against him, my hands clutching his chest, holding onto the skin that I've collected in my grasp, leaving red marks across each of his pectoral muscles.

"I love you so much." It's low and almost a mumble but I make out his words perfectly and what has become normal behavior for me lately occurs again. I cry. While I'm on top of him, still moving against him I cry. I cry for the past. I cry for everything that we've been through. I cry for all the almosts. I cry for what he felt when I was with Sully and I cry for what I felt when he was with Hannah. I cry for the relief I _finally_ feel being with him, like this, after so many years. I cry for the person I've become because of him and for the peace and security that I've felt with him like I've never felt before.

He wraps his arms around my back and I don't know if he brings me or I move there myself, but I lay forward against his chest and I keep moving in earnest, keep crying. "Shhhh…" He wipes my hair back and away from my face. "I'm never leaving you again," he kisses me and I open my mouth to him, taking. Taking. Taking. "I promise." His last words leaving his lips the same time he thrust up into me as I fall down against him. "Aaahhh!" My head falls forward and I sit up little as I continue to move and he continues to match my movements with thrusts of his own. The noises coming from this man is what I believe causes me to feel that familiar pull deep in my gut. Eventually I stop moving all together and let him take control of how and when this is going to end. He presses into me harder not faster but harder, his strokes long and definite. His hands are placed under each of my thighs, holding me up easily as I bend forward and moan loud when I feel the tingling start. He thrusts into me once, twice and then I'm rocketed into the most intense feeling I've ever experienced and I holler out his name. He's hugging me tight and emptying himself into me as well "Please...please…please...please…please" He chants each please getting quieter and less wild as he comes down from his peak. We stay together and when my muscles stop convulsing and when he loosens his grip on me just a little I fall against him. Eventually our heart rates return to normal and our breathing even and easy. He turns us onto our sides and brings the cover back up over my shoulder so that I'm completely tucked, and under his arm pit. We sleep.

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**Ok so I would really really love your feedback on this chapter because like I said, I struggled. And have you guys listened to that Sara Bareilles song yet? That song is like my life right now! Ok, review time...please :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hope you like it. **

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Even though we did wake up early, we both woke up naturally-hours before my alarm clock even went off. He was awake before I was, how I knew this was because when my eyes finally fluttered open the first thing I was aware of after taking my first completely conscious breath was his hand on me rubbing tiny circles into my hip with his finger, caressing my skin rhythmically. He stayed absolutely quiet though, I could barely even hear him breathing against the back of my neck. The only sign was his warm breath streaming out from his nose every few seconds against my skin. His body was completely molded to mine from his head buried against the crook of my neck to the point where I could just about feel every single individual whisker from his beard, to his groin pressed against my backside to his legs and feet intertwined with mine somewhere under the sheets. Both of us in the moment feeling _everything_, I felt everything that I _wanted_ to feel. Not thinking. Not allowing myself to ruin this moment. Not allowing myself to run away from this, to hurt him to hurt myself by giving this up with just a thought and then a few words. I lay there happy, happy because this was the first time that I fought and won the battle of not going…. _there_. We listened. We listened to the wind as it assaulted my bedroom windows, howling periodically without care. When we finally did rise from my bed much later we didn't discuss much. We both had to get ready for work and Booth had to leave and go back to his apartment in order to do so. Pulling his white tank top over my head and grabbing a clean pair of panties from the top drawer of my dresser, I followed him into my bathroom where he pulled on his pants and threw on his shirt. I watched him with interest. He noticed that I was standing there, just simply looking at him and his hands stilled on the buttons of his shirt. He met my eyes and his gaze was tender and full of love, and it's familiar because Booth has looked at me like that so many times before. "Oh," I said moving my hands to the bottom of his tank top to pull it off. He sticks his hand out in the air between us and waves it back and forth a few times. "No, no" and when he sees me drop my hands from the tank top, he starts on the buttons of his shirt again, "keep it." He gurgled some mouth wash and ran his fingers through his hair pulling on it in all different directions while bending his knees a bit to see his reflection better. "Brush?" I asked him. He shook his head before walking up to me while I stood in the doorway, his arms coming out to rest on my hips. He stared into my eyes and then he pressed his lips to my forehead softly before pulling back and looking at me once more. He gave my hips a light squeeze and we both acknowledged the unspoken words with our eyes.

I'm still having difficulty understanding exactly how all of this happened so suddenly. When I think about last night and I try to remember any thoughts that I had while it was all happening, I find that I can't. I can't remember anything that I was actually….thinking. All I remember is how it felt. I can remember the feelings. His and mine. I didn't plan on actually sleeping with him last night and I highly doubt that he had those specific plans when he brought me home... but nothing in this universe could have stopped it from happening, I am sure. I smile at this thought because logically, it's not possible but yet I allow myself to _feel_ it. Making love. _That_ is when two people become one. Not logical, but I felt it. I feel it.

I have files and paperwork scattered across my desk, and it's these that eventually bring me out of last night and into the present. A family member has willingly come forward, to give us information about the victim in this case. Booth is going to question him while I stay here at the lab. I think he wanted to give us some extra time to… adjust, though, I conceded more for his benefit, I think. I'm fairly certain I would have been able to handle it.

"Hey Bren."

Angela, with a slow and careful gait, makes her way into my office. Her hands are placed on top of her stomach as if she's trying to balance herself around her stomach. She smiles radiantly. Finally, she makes it to where the seats are in front of my desk but doesn't yet sit down.

"Hello," I glance down at her belly, "how are both of you today?"

"Ugh. Just… ugh."

I smile tenderly at her while she wobbles closer to my desk and in front of one of the chairs. She lowers herself cautiously until there is about three inches before she's seated and she plops herself down. She wipes a light layer of sweat from her forehead and when she brings her hand away from her face I notice her nose is scrunched and she looks somewhat troubled.

"Hey, why aren't you with Booth?"

My heart jumps in my chest. His name. Just someone mentioning his name causes my heart to race and I start to feel warm under my arms and around my neck. Perhaps he was correct suggesting that we give each other a little time. I wonder if Angela notices my reaction. "He's speaking with one of the family members. It looks like we may get a confession or very significant information leading to an arrest," I pick up a pile of papers and tap them neatly against my desk making sure all the edges are lined up perfectly before setting them back down, "I just decided to finish up something here." I say simply. Honestly.

"All right…" She looks at me like she expects me to say something else or maybe she would say something else about the subject but when neither of us does she drops it. For now. "Well, Hodgins and I are going to head out and get some food, join us?"

"I don't think so, Angela. I have to-"

"Brennan, get up and let's go." Besides Booth, Angela is most excruciatingly persistent when it comes to getting me to eat whenever she feels as though I'm "starving" myself. But, they both tell me it comes from a place of love.

_Love. _

And so I take that into consideration and even though reluctantly, I stand from behind my desk and watch as Angela flashes another smile realizing that I will indeed accompany them to lunch.

We hurry into the diner, a gust of wind following behind us; dead, hard, brown leaves nipping at our heels before the door finally closes behind us. We make our way towards our usual table. I take a seat and rub my hands together briskly to create some friction for warmth. The expecting couple takes a seat across from me. "God it is freezing today." Hodgins says as he begins to shed his jacket and scarf.

"I'm actually pretty warm right now." Angela adds shedding her outerwear with haste like it had potential to set her on fire.

"Of course you are."

She shoots him a look and he smiles back at her kissing her gently on the side of her head.

Kissing her… on the side of her head…

"_There was no forcing me, I was already there." _

_He places his lips against my temple barely making contact at first and it's maddening, "I wanted to do this to you," He closes his lips over my skin, sucking just a little bit and my head falls back in a response that I have no control over. "I gave in to what I want and need…"_

And just like that Angela's voice pulls be back and I try and shake off the feeling, the butterflies as they call them, the stomach flipping, the numbing pin-prickly feeling in my thighs and…

"Yooou better watch it mister." She pokes him against his chest and he falls back with what I hope is great exaggeration. He chuckles. She laughs now too and they whisper things to each other. Things that are meant for only them. In their world. A waitress that I'm familiar with walks over and takes our orders. She asks me if I'll have my usual and I tell her that I will.

What has happened between Booth and me… it's changed everything. We are… well, we just _are_. It used to be that we _weren't_. That we _couldn't_. But now we have and now we… are. I try to remain clinical in front of Hodgins and Angela, even though thinking about him… us… makes me feel as though I could burst into… into… I'm not sure. Into _something._ I cannot wait to show him my affections, like Hodgins and Angela do, when we're in public. I find that I'd like to touch him and poke him and whisper things to him, things that are meant for just he and I. I can be the woman that he needs. I can do that for him and I know that problems will arise but I know that he will be there for me when they do.

The waitress places a hot cup of coffee just under my nose. I look up and thank her politely before turning my attention back to the couple before me.

"So, the pregnancy is still quit hard on you, yes?"

"Are you asking me or her?" Hodgins asks and then winks.

"I'm sorry, Hodgins, I was asking Angela."

Angela rolls her eyes and smacks Hodgins on the arm playfully. "He knows that he's just being…weird." She turns back to me with a more serious look, stirring her decaffeinated tea.

"I'm hanging in there. I just need this kid out of me, like _right now_." She raises her hand in the air and waves it around a bit to get the attention of the waitress. The woman hurries back to our table. Angela mouths "sugar" to her and the woman nods and walks away again.

"It'll happen baby, just let nature take its course." Hodgins says sweetly as he rubs her shoulders.

"Well, statistically, women pregnant with their first child tend to carry beyond their expected due date." I tear the little tab back from the tiny cup of creamer and pour it into my cup.

After letting out a whimper Angela drops her head and her hair falls around her face, "Kill me." She groans. Hodgins moves his hands from her shoulders down the center of her back rubbing with force against her spine sending Angela into a subtle swaying motion. He looks up at me and tries to stifle a laugh. I smile.

As we're eating and conversing, well I was listening they were doing most of the actual talking, the door to the diner opens bringing in another gust of wind with whoever was about to come in. I see Sweets step inside. His right arm stretched out against the door as he holds it open waiting for someone to come from behind him.

My eyes widen just slightly as I lean forward and try to stretch my neck to see without being too obvious. Then I see Booth. I see him reach for the door and thank Sweets for holding it open for him. I feel my heart begin to pound and I try to somehow get the rushing noise in my head to stop. I look down at the table and try to think. Think think think. What am I supposed to do? My fingers itch. Why are my fingers itching? And suddenly it's ninety degrees in here. Should I go up to him? Say hello? Say something else? I decide to just sit. Yes, I'll sit here and I'll wait… I'll wait to see what happens. I look back at Angela, collecting myself as best as I can before speaking.

"So every night? You make him rub your feet for an entire hour?" I ask glancing back and forth between her and Booth as I do. They both laugh and start speaking at the same time, though I could care less about what either of them is actually saying. My eyes return to Booth. He's still standing with Sweets and it looks as though he has run into someone he knows. I can hear him. His voice is deep and warm, a friendly tone but with a hint of warning to it as well …how it usually always is. I bask in the sound of it.

"Sweetie! Hello?" Angela says.

Hodgins turns his head around to see what I'm fixed on. I try to remain as indifferent as possible as he turns to see Booth standing in my direct line of sight.

"Oh hey, it's Booth and Sweets."

Angela turns around, slowly, but when she's finally turned to where she can see them she shouts.

"Hey Booth!"

His body turns and his hands are plastered to his hips. His eyes are searching at first but then he locks them with mine, like a magnet seeking out something metal to cling to. They fall to me. I don't know what I should say or if I should say anything at all or if I should wave or smile… so again I wait. And for a few minutes we just stare at each other. Angela and Hodgins are essentially nonexistent at the moment. Booth starts to turn back to Sweets and the other man but he doesn't take his eyes off mine until the very last second when it becomes impossible to look at me while his head is pointed in the opposite direction. I see him touch Sweets' arm and he excuses himself by raising his index finger and saying something that I cannot hear. He turns and starts to walk. While he's walking towards me… us, I squirm in my seat and start to prepare myself for what I might say, but before I can even think about that, he's here, casting his shadow over our table. Igniting me with his presence.

"Hey, Bones." His voice sinks into me like rain to the ground after several months drought.

"Hi Booth." I bring my cup up to my lips and carefully sip my coffee.

"Hey! There's an extra seat here, why don't you join us?" Angela asks pulling the chair out for Booth.

He looks at Angela briefly before looking back at me and speaking like I was the one who asked him to stay.

"You know… I came in here with Sweets," He points a thumb over his shoulder to Sweets who was still talking to the other man they ran into.

Surprisingly, Angela and Hodgins seem to accept Booth's very sudden need to not offend Sweets and nod at his answer. I sigh with relief. Hoping to not make the situation awkward for anyone else I know that I should say something.

"Booth, how did the questioning go?" He seems to relax a little bit. He puts both his hands on the edge of the table and hooks his thumbs underneath of it. He leans in; his fingers are splayed against the top of the table. My head is still pointed up at Booth but my eyes find their way down to take in his hands, his fingers.

_I arch my back pressing my stomach against the lower half of his abdomen. I bend, as far back as I can. His left arm is wrapped around my waist so that I'm secure. He places his right hand on my chest between my breasts, his fingers splayed out against me. He groans and bends forward so that his body molds to mine._

"…. so yeah it's looking good."

I bring my eyes back up to his after only catching the last part of what he said. "Good, good… that's good." I say hurriedly. He smiles at me then, a knowing smile. A smile the causes me to start counting down the hours and minutes until work is over and I'm free to be with him again.

The silence that follows is nearly torturous and when the waitress comes up beside Booth I nearly thank her for more than just bringing another bottle of ketchup.

"All right… well," he quickly pushes himself up from the table and claps his hands together once "I'll let you guys finish up here."

"All right see you later man." Hodgins waves at Booth.

"Later Booth." Angela says.

He looks down at me then. "I'll call you later, Bones." I nod and he turns and walks away. Angela turns in her seat and watches him walk away while I keep my attention on everything but Booth. When she turns around to face me again, she's smirking.

"That man has such a great-"

"Ange!" Hodgins hollers mouth full of food. "Please, spare me!"

"What? I'm just saying… someone has to show some appreciation, since Brennan here isn't."

I try to give her a disapproving look, but her teasing smile is all too much for me to handle and I laugh. When I look over at Hodgins and see the mortified expression on his face, I cannot help but laugh even harder. Angela takes notice to her pouting husband. "I'm sorry babe; you know I love that firm little ass of yours." He leans in and kisses her hard on the mouth and releases her with a smacking sound.

"What am I going to do with you?" He asks before turning back to his food.

I watch as someone from behind the counter hands Sweets some kind of beverage in a Styrofoam cup and then hands Booth something in a white to-go box. They both say goodbye to the man they ran into and head towards the exit. Booth allows Sweets to go before him out of the door and he follows behind. Before he walks out completely, he catches the door and turns to look back at me. His eyes are serious for a moment and I assume mine are as well. He sticks his hand up in the air as if he's trying to be discreet and gives me a little wave. My posture changes as I take in his gesture. My shoulders slump as I let go of a held breath, I smile back at him. When he turns to leave I muster every bit of self control to continue to stay where I am. I pull the reins on desperation and let him leave. I hold back the impulse to run after him and touch him. Talk to him intimately; ask him about his thoughts, his feelings. Ask him if he feels like he absolutely needs me too. I control myself. I control myself knowing that when we do come together again, I'll explode.

* * *

**Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing. I LOVE all your comments. Could you let me know what you thought about this chapter as well? :) It would make me very happy :)))))**

**Oh yeah, while writing this chapter I had a song called Daylight by Matt & Kim playing... on repeat. So that was my inspiration for this chapter. It's an awesome song, you should look into listening to that if you haven't already. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is it. The last chapter. Thank you so much to those of you who have left me reviews along the way. Thanks to everyone who followed and favorited. You guys are the best and you guys are really the reason I even completed this story. **

**I know I have before, but I'd like to specifically thank ****_dgschneider_****. This person has been more than encouraging. More than what a lot of my "real life" friends have been and will ever be. Thank you :-)**

**Ok so. I had to do some research on this chapter as well. It was SO GRUELING, guys. I had to spend soo much time looking up gifs and pictures of, what's the guys name? David Boreanaz? Yeah him. I had to search for the perfect gif oh him laughing and force myself to watch it over and over again just so I could write a certain part of this chapter. But, I managed to get through it. Somehow. **

**And lastly (because I'm a HUGE music nerd & because I like to talk a lot) I wanted to give you guys (not like you really care) a little playlist of the songs that kind of go with this story. The songs that I listened to while writing this. Is that allowed, on this site? I can do that, right? *shrugs* **

**Sara Bareilles - "Gravity"**

**Matt & Kim - "Daylight"**

**M83 - "Midnight City" (This one is a TOTAL eargasm)**

**OneRepublic - "Feel Again"**

**Hope you enjoy the last chapter and I hope that it brings everything home for you. And of course, I'd love to know your thoughts in form of a review, even if it's just two or three words. Thank you.**

* * *

We solved it. The case. Sometimes we don't always know _everything_ based on the evidence alone. Sometimes it takes a little something more. Sometimes someone does something that we do not expect. It's almost too good to be true. But it _is_ true.

…

Booth and I are with our friends celebrating. They are all extremely pleased that we solved the case. I am also very happy or at least I'm getting there. I believe that a large part of the reason I have always easily accepted the invitation to come out with my friends and colleagues other than to drink, laugh and be social is because the celebration, if you will, helps to eliminate some of the pain you feel after discovering the hard, _repulsive_, abominable truth about how the victim, this _person_ that we have all come to know over the course of a case passed away. I recognize that it does help even if a little to come together after a particular hard case and celebrate being able to give this persons family some kind of closure, at the very least. During the case it's all about compartmentalizing. Keeping ones personal opinions and feelings aside. But…after it's solved you feel it. All of it. And even though I don't think it actually shows… it weighs heavy on me. It helps to be with these people who most likely share the same feelings that I do. And it helps being with him. As much as possible. Whatever way possible. And right now it helps that… we've possibly become something more and I _almost_ feel as though I have the right to depend on him emotionally. Yes, I have relied on him before, emotionally. He's made it very clear to me that that was what he was there for. But, I never felt like it's been my _right_. Especially when other people were in our lives. Other people who would have had a problem with that.

He's laughing now at something Cam said. I didn't quite hear exactly what was said but I laugh anyway while I observe him. Most of the time his lips are slightly chapped but right now they are a little wet from the beer he's been slowly sipping on. As he laughs his pale pink lips rise up against his teeth until a small smile turns into a full on grin and his face flushes with color and his brilliant white teeth sparkle bright in this dimly lit place. His eyes shimmer through the slits that they've now become and they themselves flash with laughter as if they got the joke too. Rumbles of laughter continue to erupt from his chest. The vein on the left side of his neck is tense and it protrudes as the sound of his laugh soars throughout the bar and restaurant. When he's finished laughing his lips start to slowly descend over his teeth again, his wide grin slowly turning back into a small smile. The vein in his neck starts to retract and disappear under his skin. The shade of pink that his face turned starts to dissipate and returns to its normal color. His eyes return to their normal shape and they no longer slant but they still shimmer brown and bright. He shakes his head a little looking down at the half empty beer bottle in his hand. He raises his head and his eyes level with mine. His mouth is closed now but he still brings the corners of it up into a tight lip smile. _This_ smile is mine. This one is for me. I smile back at him and we share about a minute of knowing. Knowing and acknowledging. The warmth that spreads through me takes me by surprise and I have to look away before the feeling completely consumes me.

Booth and I converse like we normally would sometimes with the others and sometimes not. I believe everyone is used to Booth and I being in our own world. I think they understand that we don't do it purposely or to be rude so when it happens, they let it. They leave us undisturbed in our moments of…of whatever it is that they see from their perspective. As time passes our friends leave two by two until just Booth and I are left behind. Although the place is full of other people it suddenly seems much quieter than it was when everyone we knew was here surrounding us, providing us some kind of escape from any awkwardness. We can't run from it now. I try to keep my focus on his eyes and keep from wandering and lingering too long on his perfect mouth or his perfect nose. He hasn't looked at me directly for awhile but he is the first speak.

"Another one solved, Bones." He nudges his arm into mine and I sway playfully away and then back into him.

"Yes." I acknowledge and bring my beer bottle up to my mouth and drink the last of it.

The sleeves of his blue button up shirt are rolled up about a quarter of the way and I watch his wrists and arms as he turns the bottle on the bar top in a rhythmic circular motion his muscles on display for me even with such little effort, moving and flinching under is olive colored skin. He looks at me. He isn't smiling but he doesn't seem tortured anymore. He seems content. All I really want to do is to get out of this place and go home. My home his home, it matters not. Just as long I'm lying against his chest when my eyes close. A group of young guys come in and stand around a few seats over to our right and I use this as my opportunity. I place my hand against his bicep and lean into him bringing my face close to his ear and neck.

"I'm feeling a bit crowded in here, Booth."

His bicep tightens under my touch and he takes a deep breath in before he responds. "Yeah," he lets out slowly. After several seconds pass he adds, "same here." He brings his beer up to his lips and downs the last bit from the bottle and looks at me cocking his head to the side. His eyes also glimmer or… maybe it's just me.

"You wanna go?" Not completely certain of his intentions I blink a few times letting his question clatter around my brain a few more moments making sure I'm not missing something… obvious. "Go where?" I ask, tipping my head to the side curiously. His bites his lower lip and then he smiles at me again.

"How about we just start with going outside?"

I nod in agreement. When we get outside he starts to walk and I simply follow. He's setting the pace, not too fast, leading us down the sidewalk. As we continue to pierce through the air the cold wind blows against my face causing my eyes to water. I blink away the moisture and concentrate on walking at his pace by his side without saying a word. I begin to realize that it doesn't seem as though he has a specific destination in mind and after a few more minutes I start to question if we're actually going anywhere at all. I remember that his truck is still parked back at the restaurant so I know we will have to turn back eventually. Still, I voice my concern.

"Where are we going Booth?" I ask keeping my eyes straight ahead.

He also continues to look straight ahead as he answers me. "We're just walking, Bones."

"Well yes. We are walking obviously, but _where_ are we going?"

He shrugs his shoulders a little and finally turns his head to look at me for a split second before returning his gaze on the path just before him. "Nowhere or… wherever you want."

I feel my eyebrows dip on my forehead and I grunt inwardly. I speed up my steps so that when I'm finally a few steps ahead of him I turn and face him and he stops just before bumping into me. Being five feet and nine inches tall I'm not all that shorter than Booth but for some reason tonight, perhaps given our stance or posture or the way he seems to be leaning over me not intimidating but in every other way, I have to actually look up at him.

"Please, Booth. I need something concrete. This," I move my hand back and forth in the short space between us, "please." I pause. "What are we doing?" I feel my expression soften as I take him in. He stares back at me for awhile and I watch as he mulls over my words. He gets it. I'm relieved he does. I don't want to elaborate.

Suddenly, he's squinting at me and talking at the same time. "Are you….. doubting? Regretting? You… don't want me?" He keeps his eyes on mine and I can see a bit of color creep up on his cheeks as his breathing starts to become heavy. I automatically begin to shake my head and keep my eyes on his as he turns his starts to turn his head away.

"What? No! No," He looks at me again, "no… I just," I take a steadying breath before going on, "I just want you to be _certain_. I want to know that this is not all happening to quickly, Booth." The last part of my sentence coming out soft, my tone raised in such a feminine way, a way that I've never spoken to him before. My eyes dart to his lips that are slightly parted as he tries to cover up the fact that he's on the verge of actually panting. He can't quite catch his breath. He takes a few steps turning his back to me for a second before turning again and stepping back into my space. "The smart thing would have been to wait," he says, making his point with his hand as it slashes through the late winter air. "The smart thing would have been to keep our distance. Give each other space and then later…._much_ later… maybe have a conversation about what's between us..." He sighs and then follows up with a few quick breaths before going on, "I shouldn't have put us in this situation-"

"So you do think this was a mistake?" I asked suddenly horrified. He glares at me, not with anger but pure intensity.

"What did I tell you last night?"He switches his weight to his other foot. "I did what I wanted to do. I did what felt right." His tense shoulders finally fall his entire demeanor suddenly becoming much softer. I think he might touch me but he keeps his hands to himself. "Everything that's ever happened between us I'll never **_ever_** view as a mistake, Bones."

He moves in closer to me again his voice low with honest surrender. "I gave in. We both did. Now we deal with those consequences." He says confidently. He tenses again, his shoulders square once more and he paces again, walking away from me and then coming right back, not as close this time. "We deal with whatever… whatever comes with us acting on being in love… we deal with our co-workers, our bosses, our exes…my son… everything. Everyone. We just…. deal with it. And that's it." He runs his hand over the back of his head and then down to his neck before letting his arm fall back to his side.

He tilts his head up and speaks to the sky. "I couldn't even make it an entire week after she left." He mumbles, maybe to himself. He brings his head back down and looks at me hard. "I couldn't wait." Now my own breathing is matching his, heavy and hard as I take in everything that he's said.

The cold air must be getting to him now because I notice his nose is red and it must be running because he sniffs once and then brings his hand up to his face and quickly wipes away any moisture. He lets go of another held breath sending a white cloud of air floating by my face and into the night.

"You don't get to go back to being just my partner… or just my friend. That doesn't happen now, ok?" His voice is confident but his brown eyes are pleading.

Still somewhat shocked at his sudden burst of honest emotion I can't seem to muster anything other than a measly "Ok."

"I just need you ok? I _need_ to be with you." He throws his hands in the air in a gesture signifying defeat. He steps in closer so that his body is just barely touching mine and I continue to stand completely still.

"Bones."

He calls me. He invites me. He's not demanding but he's asking. I love him. I want this. I have wanted this. I step towards him now closing the small distance between us and place my hand against the top of his chest just under his shoulder as our bodies finally come all the way together, touching. His knees on my legs, his pelvis against me, I lay my palm flat against him and let myself lean into him so that all of my weight is against him. His arms come up around my waist keeping us both upright. "Ok," I say simply, in an almost soothing way, for him. "We are together now." My breath is coming in short spurts as my heart pounds inside of my chest. "Romantically." I add. He grabs my hand that's against his chest and slides his fingers between mine then he grabs my other hand from my side and brings it up to his lips. He places a soft kiss to the tops of my knuckles. "I love you. God himself could not have stopped me from loving you then… and now. Being with you… last night Bones that… that was when everything in my life came together. That's when I felt complete. That moment will never be a mistake to me. I want this. With you. Right now." As soon as the words leave his lips I move my mouth to cover his. It's what I've been craving. His taste. To taste his smell. His warmth. Just… him. I move one of my hands to cup the side of his jaw and try and pull him in even closer. I don't even think it's possible but I try anyway. It's low but I hear a chuckle deep in his chest as suddenly my feet are no longer on the gum riddled sidewalk but lifted hanging freely in the air. He's picked me up squeezing me while he keeps his lips on mine and spins us around. I laugh. I've never felt so happy in my entire life.

…

Some of us live our life according to what we believe to be true. _Our_ gospel. Some of us go through things, bad things over and over again and you believe you can see a pattern, a negative pattern and you start to get it. You start expecting hurt, pain, disappointment, worry, sadness and life always delivers, right on time. You truly believe you could give the outcome to every possible scenario involving yourself, until suddenly… you can't. Suddenly someone knocks you out of your own world. Suddenly, someone comes along and begins to prove your entire life wrong and suddenly you know absolutely _nothing_ about anything that you thought mattered. And it scares you to death. In fact, you deny it at first; push it away because it doesn't _make sense_. You'll struggle; you'll fight it, for years even. There will be more hurt more pain; God is there _pain_….but you get through it because it's real. And because its love. You know nothing about what it really is or what the outcome will be but what you do know is that you wouldn't trade it. It's precious. It's yours and you are finally allowed to be happy with it.

…

I love it when a storm rolls in during the night when most of us are quiet, tucked, maybe vulnerable, and then the next morning when you finally get to step outside you find small branches that have been broken. Branches that have fallen and they've been blown and scattered onto the sidewalks and streets. Wet leaves sticking to the rain slicked pavement. You hear the sound of water rushing through the gutters and the sound of cars splashing through puddles as they pass you. You see the dark clouds high and way out in the distance of the sky no longer rolling and threatening but leaving in its path blue skies. Everyone is going about their day intact. The storm came and went and there _is_ evidence of that… but everyone is ok. I smile to myself as I hustle across the street as quickly as I can before the traffic light turns. A dried leaf scurries by me quickly and the wind blows and keeps it planted against a window of the building I'm passing. I take note of this and see my reflection as I'm walking. Then, she's there. The little girl. Me. I slow my pace and continue to bravely look on into the eyes of myself as a child. I lift my head and my chin juts out just a little as I wait for something to happen. The girl smiles and then laughs, silently. She laughs and her face is bright and filled with something that I know she's never ever felt before. I smile to myself and pick up speed again as I walk by the building happily. No, not just happy… completely filled with joy.

The end.


End file.
